


Misfortunes of the Court

by Ninety_Six_Thousand, Uncomfortable Duck (ScreamingJuiceBox)



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: A LOT of Angst, And i mean a little comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, So ill tag it, im not even sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-14 07:40:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9169057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ninety_Six_Thousand/pseuds/Ninety_Six_Thousand, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScreamingJuiceBox/pseuds/Uncomfortable%20Duck
Summary: Phillip doesn't want his dad to go into the military. His friend Theodosia's dad went into the military, so he knows how dangerous it is. But Dad said that he had to.





	

Phillip doesn't want his dad to go into the military. His friend Theodosia's dad went into the military, so he knows how dangerous it is. But Dad said that he had to.

"Pip," he had said, kneeling down to be eye level with the eight year old. "I have to go protect our country. Do you understand?" 

Phillip had shaken his head, tears streaming down his face. "Why can't someone else protect the country?"

Dad had sighed and wiped the tears away from his face. "Pip, honey, there aren't a lot of people who are going to lead black soldiers into battle, OK?"

Phillip had nodded, not wanting to understand, but doing so anyway. Dad had pulled him into a tight hug, saying that he wish he didn't have to go. Phillip wished he didn't have to go, too.

He stood with Papa in the kitchen, watching as Dad said goodbye to his "wife." Papa said that he and Dad weren't supposed to be together. Phillip didn't really understand that. He Dad loved each other, right? 

When Phillip had asked, Dad said that his wife didn't really like anyone. When Phillip asked what would happen if she did, Dad had laughed and said that that wasn't going to happen.

Now, Phillip didn't really care about the whole 'wife thing.' He just wished that he could be out there, saying goodbye to his Dad.

\--

A year had gone by when Papa and he got the telegram. A year of worrying and waiting for his dad to finally come home. A year of disappointment. 

When Papa was given the telegram by Dad's wife, who was smiling sadly, he stood holding it with shaking hands.

"Papa? Is it about Dad? What does it say?"

Papa doesn't say anything, just continues to stare at the paper with an eerily pale face.

Dad's wife gently tugged the paper out of his hands with an apologetic look. "Your son needs you."

He looked at Phillip, absurd hope written all over his nine year old face, and decided, cowardly as it was, that he would not be the one to break that hope. "I have so much work to do."

Martha, Dad's wife, and Eliza, Papa's wife, start taking care of Phillip more than Papa does. Sure, he still sees him sometimes, and it isn't like he completely neglects Phillip, it's just that everything has changed.

Papa hides out in his office and Dad never comes home. Sure, Phillip knows he probably isn't, but it's nice to think that maybe there was a mistake somewhere. Maybe Dad isn't dead.

Two years go by with Phillip hoping he's still somehow alive. He can almost hear what Dad would say to him. "Pip, wanting something can't make it happen, honey."

He gives a small smile, wondering if Papa would say something similar, before a knock sounds at the door. He walks over and opens it, looking up at a familiar face. "Mr. Burr." He nods and steps aside to allow entrance into his house.

"Good morning, Phillip," he smiles. "Where's your dad?"

Phillip points mutely at the study door. Papa's been locked in there for three days in a row now. It's been an especially bad period of time. And Phillip has a feeling that Mr. Burr's news isn't going to make it any better.

Burr barges through the door and points at Papa. "I finally have enough evidence. I'm bringing your ass to court."

Papa brushes what look suspiciously like tears from the corners of his eyes. "Yeah? What evidence exactly? Remember, you've tried this before."

Burr, eyes blazing, held up a letter. "This."

Papa laughed. "That's it? The letters were never enough before, Burr."

"Maybe. But this one will." He unfolded it and began reading. "'My dearest Laurens, I wish it may be in-"

"STOP. Please. Just stop." A tear was sliding down his cheek. "I'll plead guilty. Just, please, don't read that in front of the jury. It was only meant for his eyes."

Phillip sees Burr's eyes almost soften. "I'll give you two days to say your goodbyes." He walks out.

Phillip's small head pokes around the corner. "Papa? What's going on?"

Papa quickly brushes tears from his eyes. "Nothing, honey. What do you say we go get ice cream?"

Phillip's eleven year old eyes light up. The problem at hand not quite forgotten, but set aside for the moment. 

\--

Two days later, Phillip watches the trial with naïve hope. 

"Alexander Hamilton, you are accused of inappropriate relations with another man. How do you plead?" The judge spoke with weighty confidence, as though he held the world in his hands. Phillip knows that he really does hold his Papa's world in his hands.

Papa drops his head in shame. Not shame for having loved Dad, Phillip knows he would never be ashamed of that, but shame for not having been able to win against Burr. "Guilty."

The court room erupts hushed whispers. Everyone basically knew that this was the case, but no one expected him to admit to it. 

The judge looked at the defeated man with no remorse. He looked at the man who had crushed his soul with no feeling. This was a man who did not care about love nor hate. This man was the law.

So, Phillip knew what the sentence was going to be before it was ever said. He knew that it didn't matter that his Papa had loved his Dad. It didn't matter that he loved his Papa. He had never felt so helpless.

"Alexander Hamilton, you are hereby sentenced to death."

Papa wilted at the stand. He had to lean on it to stop from falling over, but Phillip couldn't stop the feeling that maybe he was glad. He finally got to be with Dad. And Phillip wasn't going to be sad for that.

They made him watch the hanging. As much as he promised himself he wouldn't be sad, there was only so much an eleven year old could do when forced to watch his Papa's lifeless body swinging in the wind, still convulsing.

He cried. What else could he do?

The other kids at school started to give him weird looks. He heard them whispering about whether or not he was like his Papa. He didn't really have the guts or knowledge to answer them.

As he grew, the rumours started to grow. He knew they could get him killed, so he tried his best to dispell them. He flirted with every girl, and they all swooned at the thought that they, of all the girls, had caught a gay guy's attention.

He just rolled his eyes and went along with his day.

He got a scholarship to Kings College. He had to write an essay about losing his father to obtain it, but it was worth it to go to the same college that his father went to, if only to feel a little bit closer to his Papa.

He keeps his reasons and woes to himself, focusing his mind on studying and not getting killed.

It isn't until one day, when he's in the middle of a panic attack and stumbles into the wrong dorm, that he finally gets to let go.

He can't breathe and all he can think about is his Papa's death. He knows what set it off, hearing about a local girl sentenced to death. That's not it, though. Her child was made to watch the entire thing.

"Excuse me?" He hears a voice behind him, but he can't bring himself to open his eyes. Even if he could, he doesn't know if he had the air to answer.

Footsteps approach him, and he thinks of the executioner's footsteps on that hard wood floor. He flinches at the hand landing on his shoulder, but it stays there and starts to calm him down. Ground him.

He peeks through one eye to see a boy with curly brown hair looking worriedly at him. "Are you okay?"

Phillip shakes his head. He's most definitely not okay. 

"Alright, umm. Look at me." Phillip opens his eyes again to look the other boy in his dark brown eyes. "Now, we're gonna talk, OK?"

Phillip nods.

"Alright. I'm Matthew. What's your name?"

"Ph-Ph-Ph-Phi-Phillip." He takes big, gasping breaths in between the stuttering. 

"Good. Okay. Umm. What are you majoring in?"

Phillip can't help but appreciate all of the effort that this boy is putting into this. It's almost calming. "Pol-polo-polotics."

"Really? Me too! Who do you have for domestic and foreign policy?" His eyes lit up, showing that he really was interested; this wasn't just to distract Phillip.

"Um. Tre-Trevors." Phillip can't really pinpoint when his breathing had started to even out, but it had, mostly thanks to Matthew, he figures.

"Ugh. I hear his class is a bitch. I got lucky, I have Peters. I could probably tutor you sometime if you want? Not that you look dumb or anything, but I doubt you'll be able to learn much from Trevors."

Phillip attempts a smile that probably turns out to be more of a grimace. "Yeah. That sounds good."

"Good!" The boy gives a crooked smile that sort of reminds Phillip of a sliver of the moon. "Are you OK?" 

Phillip smiles and nods, noticing how full Matthew's lips are. He desperately wants to feel them, touch them, kiss them. Just a little closer and he would be. He feels himself leaning towards the other boy, but tears himself away before they touch.

"I-I have to go. Sorry." He throws a "thank you" over his shoulder on the way out the door.

The one thing he knows is that that cannot happen again.

Against all warning from his mind, Phillip goes back to Matthew's dorm to study. He and Matthew sit on the bed as Matt quizzes him on domestic policy.

Most of what Matt says goes in one ear and out the other. Matt seems to notice this and asks if he's paying attention.

"Yeah! Sorry. I'm a little distracted." 

Matt wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. "Maybe there's something else you'd rather pay attention to?"

He gives that sliver moon smile that makes Phillip melt inside before leaning forward and catching Phillip's lips in a kiss. 

Phillip pulls back almost as soon as it happens.

"Sorry, I thought..." Matt looks at him sheepishly.

"No, it's just-" Phillip takes a shaky breath. "My Papa died when I was eleven."

"Oh?" Matt clearly doesn't really know what's going on. 

"He was sentenced to death for loving my Dad. They made me watch."

Matt looks at him softly, as though he might break him just by looking at him the wrong way. "Hey. Pip, that won't happen to you."

Phillip noticeably stiffens. "Don't call me that."

Matt recoils within himself. "Sorry, I just thought-"

"Dad used to call me that, don't call me that."

"Sorry." Matt is hurt and dejected, though obviously trying to hide it. Phillip can't take looking at him like that anymore, so he kisses him.

Not his best idea.

He goes to Matt's dorm often. They start off studying, but usually end up making out.

That is, until George Eaker walks in on them one day.

Matt was tugging at Phillip's shirt when they both heard the door open. A voice cuts through the air. "Oh, sorry, wrong dorm-" the voice stops for a second as he realizes what he walked into. "Phillip Hamilton?" 

Phillip bites his lip and sighs before pushing Matt off and sitting up. 

Eaker gives a cruel laugh. "I knew it. Just like your father."

Phillip's jaw clenches. "Don't talk about my father." 

"Why not? I haven't said anything that wasn't true. Your father was a scoundrel, and so it seems are you."

The words send his heart into his stomach. Does that mean his story will end the same way his father's did? Before he can ask, he notices that Eaker had already left.

"Shit. I have to go." He leaves before Matt can protest.

They don't see each other for two weeks, hoping to dispell any unwanted attention. It doesn't work.

In the end, it's his word against Eaker's. The court takes Eaker's.

In the last moments before the rope takes him, Phillip can see his dad and his papa, together again. His dad smiles.

"Come here, Pip. You don't have to be alone."

Phillip smiles. It goes quiet.


End file.
